Whispers of Morgan
by M. Willow
Summary: A tragic event threatens Starsky's sanity. Can Hutch save him before it's too late?
1. Chapter 1

Whispers of Morgan

By M. Willow

_I don't own the characters from the series._

**Chapter one**

It happened in an instant. One moment Starsky was riding in the car and the next it was careening into the icy depths of the dark water below. Starsky was dazed as his head hit the windshield but he still witnessed the last moments of the white-haired passenger seated next to him. His time was short so he said his goodbyes silently as he took a breath and the icy water entered his body. Strong hands reached him, pulling him out of the car. His last glimpse was of the blonde's hair cascading around her, her eyes open.

Time moved slowly for the blond in the waiting room. He had received the call only an hour ago. He had been entertaining a red-head in his apartment when the call came through. It was the hospital telling him that his partner had been in a car accident. He thought it impossible at first— Starsky had left the party over two hours ago in the company of a very attractive blonde. But now he'd been in a car accident and Hutch paced the floor of the waiting room.

Soon a doctor appeared. He was young, far too young to be anything but an intern. Still, Hutch was happy to see anyone who could tell him what was happening with Starsky. The doctor offered his hand and quickly assuaged any ideas that he was an intern. Upon closer inspection Hutch realized the doctor was older than he had first appeared. He was a tall man with piercing blue eyes and a shock of red hair. Hutch shook the proffered hand and quickly started to ask questions.

"How's my partner?" he asked urgently, watching as the doctor seated himself. Hutch stood for a second then seated himself opposite the doctor.

"He has a mild concussion. Your friend has been through a rather traumatic event. I expect a complete recovery, but mentally…well he may need some help. Survivor's guilt is very prevalent among those who survive car accidents such as these. I would suggest professional counseling."

Hutch took a shuddering breath. It had only been a year since the brunet had suffered at the hands of Gunther. Now this. Still, Hutch resolved that they would get through this too.

"May I see him?" Hutch asked, eyeing the doctor expectantly. The doctor ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath.

"Yes, He's been asking for you, but I must warn you, he may be in denial and act as if everything is okay. Or he may go into a depression, asking why he didn't die instead of her."

Hutch was visibly shaken. Starsky had always been strong. Still, he had been through a lot in the past four years. Could this be the final straw?

"I need to see him," Hutch said locking eyes with the doctor.

The doctor stood. "He's in room 214. I would suggest letting him lead the conversation. Don't ask any questions about the accident."

Hutch agreed then headed to his partners room. He was worried this time.

Starsky was sitting in bed staring at the television when Hutch arrived. Hutch could tell that his attentions were not focused on the program. Hutch approached slowly, careful not to startle him. Starsky looked expectantly at Hutch and started to shake. Hutch quickly sat by his friend's side, putting a supporting hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay. It's okay." Hutch said soothingly, trying to hide his worry.

Starsky shook his head, "How…how could this happen?"

"Want to talk about it, Starsk?"

Starsky locked eyes with Hutch. Hutch noted the vulnerability in the eyes and gathered him in his arms. Starsky's head rested against Hutch's chest. His body shook as he spoke. "We'd just left the party. I wanted to get a cab, but she said she didn't have anything to drink so we took her car. We stopped at the park. You know the place," Starsky said not waiting for a reply. "We made out for a while and then decided to go to my place. That's were we were headed when it happened."

Starsky stopped talking for a moment, his eyes vacant as he recalled the terror. Finally he continued, "We were goin' over a bridge in the park. It was dark. The park was about to close. I remember thinking how black the water was when we were driving over it. It was late, Hutch. You could hardly see anything but the black water. And then… and then…"

Starsky voice was so low that Hutch could hardly hear him. His eyes were wide as if the whole event was replaying before his eyes.

"You don't have to talk about it now," Hutch reassured, massaging his friend's shoulder.

"But, I gotta," Starsky said taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "I need to." He continued to speak, his voice low. "Somehow, it felt like we were flying. I didn't know why. It wasn't raining. There was no reason. No reason for the car to fly. That's what I remember thinkin'. And then, the water came in. I saw her. Just sitting there. Just sitting there while the water came in. I tried to move. I…I..I tried, Hutch. I tried to move, but I couldn't. I couldn't move for some reason."

"The doctor said you have a mild concussion. You hit your head. It stunned you enough to keep you from moving." Hutch said, pulling his friend closer.

"If I coulda moved, I maybe would have been able to save her. But I saw her, Hutch. Even in the dark. She had this eerie look on her face as the water came in. She looked at me, I mean straight at me as if….as if…I don't know Hutch. I can't describe it. And then she was dead but she kept lookin' at me."

Starsky was crying now, his voice breaking as he attempted to talk, his hands clutching at Hutch's arms.

Hutch continued to hold the smaller man. "It's okay, buddy, okay. We're going to find out what happened. Soon as you get out of her. The doctor said it was okay for you to go home, as long as somebody is with you. Let's go home, okay?"

Starsky didn't say anything, just laid in his arms trembling, his hands clasping the arms of the tall blond. "She looked at me. Her hair was moving, like the wind blew it. Just moving all around and she kept staring at me. I remember saying goodbye. Didn't think I'd ever see you again. And then, somebody lifted me outa there. I don't remember anything after that. Just waking up here."

"A man walking his dog saw the car go in. He's the one pulled you out." Hutch said, still holding his partner close.

Starsky moved away from Hutch, looking at him with remorseful eyes. " I should've done something. Saved her. She drowned while I just sat there."

"It was an accident, Starsky. It wasn't your fault."

"It was. It was my fault," he stammered, his head dropping, eyes downcast. "I should've saved her. My God, why didn't I do something? How could I just sit there and watch her die."

Hutch reached for Starsky, pulling him into his arms. They stayed that way, Starsky crying in his arms, Hutch holding him against the creeping dread.


	2. Chapter 2

Whispers of Morgan

By M. Willow

**Chapter Two**

The doctor released Starsky later that night. Hutch drove him home in silence. It was raining when they left and Starsky attention was riveted to the rain soaked streets as he remembered when he first met Morgan.

They were at a party. Hutch had been invited by an old friend. It was a small gathering—about twenty people. The instant Starsky entered the room, his attention fell on the blonde. She was gorgeous in a Marylyn Monroe sort of way. She had platinum blonde hair and the most startling grey eyes he had ever seen. Starsky knew the party was going to be interesting the minute he laid eyes on her. And she noticed him too, making a quick beeline for the brunet the minute she saw him.

"I dreamed of meeting a man like you," she'd said, her gray eyes sparkling. Starsky noticed her voice was throaty and seductive. She reached a hand out to him, beckoning him to dance. It didn't matter that there was no music playing or that they were the only two people dancing. Soon, Starsky barely noticed the presence of the other people at the party. His attention was totally riveted on the Blonde. Her name was Morgan Harlow. Starsky, laughed when she told him that. Here she was, platinum blonde hair like Jean Harlow and her last name was Harlow.

It turns out Harlow was her real name and so was the platinum blonde hair—that is until she reached the age of fifteen and it had turned a dishwater blonde. That's when she decided to dye it platinum blonde. Fitting she'd said, considering her last name.

After a few hours, Hutch had asked him what he wanted to do about getting home. They had come in Hutch's car. Starsky took one look at Morgan and the answer was clear—he left with Morgan.

They had stopped on the way home at a secluded spot in the park. The moonlight was in full force as they sat enjoying each others company. Soon, they were making out like teenagers and decided to go to Starsky's apartment for more privacy. They were going over a bridge when, for some reason, the car careened into the lake.

Starsky attention was brought back to the present by the sudden blare of Hutch's radio. He gave a loud sigh and Hutch looked questioningly at the Brunet.

"How'd ya think the car wound up in the lake, Hutch. I mean, it wasn't raining. She wasn't speeding. It was almost like she just drove in there."

"I don't know, Gordo, but we're going to find out. First you need rest. You suffered through an awful ordeal."

Starsky spent the rest of the ride home silently watching the soft fall of rain against the windshield.

Two hours later they were in Starsky's apartment. They had ordered Pizza and Starsky ate hungrily never speaking of the ordeal. Hutch noted that Starsky was reluctant to go to sleep. He seemed tired and listless but every time Hutch mentioned going to bed, Starsky found an excuse to stay awake. Finally Hutch convinced Starsky to at least attempt to sleep and he'd reluctantly agreed. Now they stood in Starsky bedroom. The detective was still shaky and his eyes reflected the terror he had only recently witnessed.

"Try to get some sleep. The doctor said just to wake you every two hours."

"Okay," Strarsky said slowly, climbing into bed and laying on his back. He offered no protest.

"You need anything?" Hutch asked, pulling the cover over Starsky, and stroking his dark curls.

Starsky locked eyes with Hutch, his expression sad. He said nothing and Hutch was becoming concerned. It was not like Starsky to be reticent around him. They had always talked their problems through, each helping the other when needed. Now Starsky seemed like a man who had been totally deflated of everything. He lay lifeless, looking up at Hutch."

"I'll be fine Hutch. Just need to get some rest. I'll be fine." Starsky voice was mechanical. He spoke the words but Hutch could see that he didn't feel them.

"You want me to stay here with you? I mean the bed is big enough."

"No," Starsky smiled. "I think tucking me in should be enough for tonight. Why don't you get some sleep?. You're not lookin' too good."

"Gee, thanks, buddy," Hutch said turning towards the door, happy to hear the light banter in Starsky's voice, even if it was forced. "If you need anything, or just want to talk. I'll be on the couch."

"Thanks, Hutch." Starsky said slowly, closing his eyes. Hutch turned the light off as he left the room. .

The dream started at the party. His eyes were drawn to the blonde the minute he and Hutch entered the room. And she noticed him. The blonde made a path towards him and kissed him soundly on the lips. She drew back and Starsky looked into her dead gray eyes. She smiled at him as if she knew a secret that he, somehow, did not.

"Why did you let me die?" she asked, looking expectantly at him.

Starsky backed away, a scream threatening to erupt. Morgan advanced, still asking the question. Starsky screamed as if his life was being drained. He kept screaming even after Hutch entered the room.


	3. Chapter 3

Whispers of Morgan

By M. Willow

**Chapter Three**

It had been three hours since the nightmare. Hutch had called Dobey and told him what had happened. The captain gave both of them time off and Hutch was grateful. He didn't like the haunted look in his partner's eyes. Now both men sat in the living room talking. Starsky was visibly shaken. It had taken everything the blond knew about psychology to calm his hysterical friend after the nightmare. Starsky had refused to go back to sleep and so they had spent the time talking. The spoke of everything but the nightmare or the accident. Hutch remembered the doctor telling him not to push Starsky so he let his friend lead the conversation.

"Starsky, I love talking to you, but you need rest. Come on. How about I help you to the bedroom."

"No, Hutch, I ain't goin' to sleep. I'm not tired."

"I know, but you still need to get some rest."

Starsky looked at Hutch intently. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

"Look, it was just a dream. That's all." Hutch added, sensing the dream Starsky had had was about the accident.

Starsky visibly relaxed. "Yeah, and dreams can't hurt you, can they?" He said sarcastically, locking eyes with Hutch. He got up and headed for the bedroom. He slept peacefully the rest of the night.

The weeks went by slowly. They were unable to discover the reason a young, healthy woman would suddenly drive a car off a bridge. Her death haunted Starsky in many ways. Her family blamed him. Morgan's mother had verbally attacked him when he attempted to pay his respects at Morgan's funeral. It was ugly, with the old woman threatening to destroy him. He was an officer of the law—sworn to protect and serve, she'd shouted. Yet, he had sat idly while her child had died.

Morgan's family was rich and had connections in high places. It appeared that Morgan had committed suicide but the family was not willing to accept the verdict. A coroner's inquest was ordered and private detectives were hired by the Morgan family. Starsky had been suspended during the investigation in spite of Dobey's protest. Still, in the end, it was determined that Morgan had ended her own life. The family continued to deny the suicidal intentions of Morgan, refusing to provide information that may have yielded answers. Starsky's suspension ended and he returned to work.

Now, Hutch eyed his friend sitting across from him at the station. Starsky was quiet, a fact that was becoming all too familiar.

"Starsky, would you like to get something to eat. Maybe go to that favorite Mexican place you like."

The dark-haired detective didn't look up and didn't seem surprised that his health nut friend had suggested a place that hardly had a healthy item on the menu.

"Naw, Hutch. Why don't you go ahead," Starsky said absently, pretending to read a report.

"Listen, Starsk, You've gotta pull out of this. We may never discover why she killed herself, or tried to kill you."

Starsky rubbed his eyes then looked at Hutch. "Don't you see, Hutch. I've gotta find the answer. Everything depends on it."

Hutch met his partners worried eyes. "Buddy, talk to me. You know I want to…"

Starsky rose from his chair. "Not this time," and he left, the door closing softly behind him.

It was late and Starsky was tired. More tired than he had been in a long time. He had been avoiding sleep, drinking tons of coffee, anything to avoid the recurring nightmare about Morgan. He'd been having the same nightmare for weeks. He would meet Morgan at the party and then she would ask him why had he let her die.

Starsky got undressed and got into bed. Tonight he planned to sleep. He couldn't keep going indefinitely without sleep. Hutch was starting to get worried, and honestly, so was he. He was becoming short tempered, striking at anyone who came near him. He'd refused help, even from Hutch.

Now he stretched out on the bed, his body relaxing into the mattress. Within minutes he was asleep. He slept well until he heard the faint sounds of someone entering his apartment. Hutch, Starsky thought. Probably worried about my abrupt departure from the squad room. He attempted to call out to his friend, only to discover that his voice failed. He attempted to get up, but discovered, to his horror, that he couldn't move.

Fear gripped Starsky. He couldn't move and someone was in his apartment. He tried to move his hands and then his feet. His breathing quickened as he realized that he couldn't. He could hear the sounds of footsteps moving closer to his room. They were slow and deliberate—almost as if the person were toying with him. He felt indescribable terror at the prospect of helplessly lying in bed—paralyzed for all intents and purposes, while an intruder entered his room.

It wasn't Hutch, he could sense only malevolence in the presence of the person walking towards him. He thought of his gun hanging uselessly by the door. He struggled to open his eyes to no avail and then he heard someone enter his room and approach the bed. Would they poison him? Must he relive that nightmare, he thought. He thought of Hutch and called to him in a silent whisper. And then he felt a cold hand on his arm and smelled the putrid scent of decay. He struggled, struggled to move anything, any part of his body. Still, he couldn't move. He just laid there while the cold hand caressed his face. And then he heard a husky voice. "Why did you let me die?" Starsky screamed in his mind, but his voice was silent.


	4. Chapter 4

Whispers of Morgan

By M. Willow

**Chapter Four**

It was a bright sunny day as Hutch stood outside his apartment waiting for Starsky to pick him up. He was late which didn't surprise the blond. He had been late almost everyday since the accident. He knew his friend was not getting enough sleep and he suspected that the curly-haired detective was having nightmares. Hutch had tried to get Starsky to talk about it, but Starsky always found a reason to avoid any conversation regarding Morgan's death.

Hutch paced the sidewalk, his eyes seeking the reassuring presence of the red tomato. Hutch worried whenever the brunet was late. He recalled the words of the doctor about survivors guilt. He knew if Starsky could have changed places with Morgan he would have without hesitation. The thought chilled him. Had it not been for a man walking his dog, Starsky would have been dead too.

Hutch looked up when he heard the familiar sound of Starsky's car and stood near the curb. Starsky pulled up and Hutch got in the car. The site greeting Hutch was shocking. Starsky looked as if he had aged ten years overnight. His face was drawn and pale. He had dark circles under his eyes.

"Oh my God, Starsky. I've got to get you to a hospital." Hutch said, grabbing Starsky's arm.

Starsky yanked his arm back. "Didn't sleep well, is all. Ain't going to no hospital." He started the car, his eyes looking straight ahead as he drove down the street. Hutch was still looking at Starsky.

"I'm not sure you should even be going in. I'll call Dobey. Tell him you're sick. He'll give us a few…"

Starsky slammed his fist on the steering wheel and slammed on the breaks. "I ain't sick. I just didn't get enough sleep. I'll be fine. The last thing I want to do is sit around the house all day or listen to a doctor tell me somethin' I already know."

Hutch looked uneasily at his partner. "Starsky, you're a wreck. Even if you go in, no way is the captain going to let us out on the street. When was the last time you got any rest?"

"Don't know. Last night. Yeah, I slept last night."

Hutch knew Starsky was lying. He just couldn't figure out why he would lie to him. They'd always been honest with each other.

"Listen, buddy, I'll call the captain. Then we'll go to your place and crash. How about that?"

"No. I'm not goin' home." Starsky said quickly, his eyes darting around the street.

Hutch noted the desperate tone in Starsky's voice. He seemed nervous about something.

"Then we'll stay at my place. You take the bed."

Starsky sat there in silence for a while, his eyes cast out the window. Hutch noticed that he looked like a little boy who had been lost. He looked down at the steering wheel and spoke quietly.

"You seem to think, I'm not capable of taking care of myself. You've somehow made yourself my chief guardian. Well, I'm a grown man. I don't need you or anyone else to take care of me, okay. Been doing that a long time by myself. Now get out."

Hutch was incredulous. Starsky had never spoken to him in that manner. But then Starsky had never been in such a mental state.

"You don't mean that. You know I want…."

"You want. Well, I don't care what you want. Get outa my car, Hutch. I don't need a damn babysitter."

Hutch reluctantly opened the door. "If you need anything. I mean anything, call me. Okay. Just do that, please." He got out and watched as the Torino roared down the street.

Starsky arrived home minutes after he left Hutch. Hutch was right—he was in no condition to work. He was a danger to himself and to Hutch. He couldn't bear it if something happened to Hutch because of him. He had already caused one death.

He thought about the way he had spoken to Hutch. How could he have gotten so angry when Hutch was only trying to help? It had to be the lack of sleep. The nightmares were so vivid that he avoided sleep. And now they had become real. He thought about the nightmare he had last night when he had awakened and found he couldn't move. It had to be another nightmare. What other explanation could there be? He shuddered as he went into the bathroom and turned on the cold water in the shower. He undressed quickly and stepped into the shower. He needed to stay awake and a cold shower always refreshed him.

Later he exited the shower feeling refreshed. He grabbed his robe and headed for the kitchen. He thought about calling Hutch. Maybe if he told Hutch he could help him. Or at least stay there while he slept. Still, the idea of telling him that he was having nightmares so intense that he was afraid to sleep made him uncomfortable. He sounded like a little kid— afraid of the dark. But he was afraid of the dark. He even slept with the lights on in the bedroom.

Starsky made a cup of coffee, its rich aroma filling the air. He had relied on the strong brew to keep him awake over the past few weeks. He sat on the couch and thought about his life since the accident. He had had nightmares every night. They always involved Morgan. Sometimes they'd be dancing and she would suddenly die in his arms. Sometimes he would relive the moment the car crashed into the water and he'd sat while she died. Each time he'd awakened in a cold sweat. Each time he wanted to call Hutch but couldn't bring himself to do it. Now he had felt her presence in the room while he lay immobile and she had asked the question he couldn't answer—why had he let her die?

Starsky rested his head against the back of the sofa. He wondered if he was having a nervous breakdown. He remembered the mental institution that he and Hutch had gone undercover in a few years ago. The patients all seemed so hopeless. Would he wind up in one of those places one day? Would he cry in the night as Morgan visited him yet again? He took a sip the bitter coffee and sat the cup on the table. He laid his head back on the sofa. I've got to stay awake, was his last thought as he slipped into a deep slumber.

It was the creak of the floor that awakened him. He tried to move and found that he could not. His breath caught in his throat, as he smelled the putrid scent. He could feel her presence in the room. He struggled to open his eyes. He had to see for himself. He had to know. Maybe it was a cruel joke. Maybe it was someone who wanted to hurt him— to see him go mad. Finally with some effort he was able to open his eyes.. She was standing by the door looking at him. For an instant they locked eyes and then slowly she walked toward him, the scent of decay becoming stronger. It was Morgan Harlow and she was a vision of terror, with her platinum blonde hair, and the flesh that hung from her body. She wore the same green dress that she'd died in. Starsky tried desperately to move, his mind racing. It was Morgan, yet it was impossible. Morgan had died three weeks ago. And then her hands where on face, caressing him.

She leaned down and looked into his eyes, her grey eyes angry. "Why did you let me die?"

His mind screamed but no sound was heard.


	5. Chapter 5

Whispers of Morgan

By M. Willow

**Chapter Five**

Hutch was sitting at his desk when Starsky entered the squad room. Hutch knew his friend would not pick him up so he had driven to work by himself. As usual, the brunet was late—a fact that had Hutch nervous over the last hour. Hutch noted the brunet was starting to look impossibly thin, his normally tight jeans now almost lose. Starsky sat down, barely acknowledging his presence. Hutch couldn't remember when he'd seen his friend look so tired. He was literally falling apart right in front of his eyes.

Hutch stood abruptly, coming to stand at Starsky's side.

"You look terrible," he said, putting a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder.

"I'm just tired. Haven't been sleeping well." Starsky said, grabbing a sheet of paper and putting it in the typewriter.

Hutch sat on the side of the desk. "You can't go on like this forever. You need to see someone, talk to someone. If not me, then…."

Starsky looked sharply at him, the dark circles under his eyes evident as he spoke, "You mean a shrink, Buddy. Is that's what you're suggesting. Cause I can't sleep, I should see a shrink?"

Hutch tried to calm his friend. "Starsky, you should see yourself. Dark circles under your bloodshot eyes, clothes that look like you slept in them. You look like death warmed over."

Starsky abruptly stood, his chair clattering loudly to the floor. All eyes were on him as he exited the squad room, narrowly bumping into Dobey as he hastily exited.

Hutch stood in stunned silence, looking at the quick departure of his best friend, worry evident on his face. Dobey approached, laying a concerned hand on the blond. "Son, I think we need to talk."

Hutch followed Dobey into his office.

Starsky rushed to the men's room. His heart was racing as he stood before the mirror looking at his reflection. He leaned against the sink for support. Hutch was right. He looked like death warmed over. He turned on the faucet, and splashed some cold water on his face. He was so tired. Unbelievably tired. It was as if every bit of strength had been drained from him. He thought about the previous night. Morgan had clearly been standing in his room and he couldn't move. Was she a ghost? Was she planning to kill him or slowly drive him mad? Or was he already mad, imagining a woman who had died because of his inability to save her? He looked down at his hands. They were shaking.

Starsky grabbed a paper towel and dried his face. Should he tell Hutch? The thought frightened him, telling Hutch meant that he really was losing it--that he was insane. Still, Hutch would know what to do, and he was too tired to even think at this point. The only sleep he'd had in the past two nights was after the visitations. He had never seen her leave the room. His body had always remained paralyzed while she was there. And then he would go into a deep sleep, only to awaken a few hours later. He had to tell Hutch. He was a danger to him on the streets and he couldn't just walk away without telling him what was going on. He headed back to the squad room.

Hutch was in Dobey's office when Starsky returned so he sat at his desk to type some reports. He was so tired that he had problems keeping his eyes open. Still he worked desperately to complete his task. He looked around the squad room and noticed the fleeting stares of the other officers. He ignored them, returning to his task. And then he watched as the room slowly dissolved. Starsky looked around to discover all of the officers had disappeared and he was alone. Fear creped up his spine. He stood abruptly, his eyes desperately searching for someone, anyone. He headed for Dobey's office. Hutch would know what to do, he thought desperately. And then he saw her, standing by the door. It was Morgan. He backed up as she slowly approached, the anger evident in her eyes. The decay even more pronounced than before.

"Why did you let me die?" she asked, walking menacingly towards him. "It is time for you to come with me."

Hutch was seated in Dobey's office. The captain had understood as Hutch explained the obvious deterioration of Starsky since the accident.

"I don't know what to do, Captain. He won't talk to me. I've tried. If anything, he avoids me more."

"What do you think is causing it?" Dobey said.

Hutch ran a nervous hand through his hair, "Don't know, possibly guilt. He blames himself, even though it was Morgan who drove the car into the lake. She committed suicide and almost took him with her. I've told him that. He's read the report."

Dobey stood and got a cup of water, returning to his desk and drinking quickly. "Maybe, we need to find out why she did it, son. Maybe that will get rid of his guilt?"

Hutch looked gratefully at the large man. Starsky was lucky to have a man so concerned about him. Dobey was more than a captain. He was family, almost like a father.

"Captain. I need to get him off the streets," he said slowly, closing his eyes as he spoke.

"That bad?"

Hutch took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "That bad."

Dobey sighed, looking sadly at the blond as he spoke. "I'll make it an order, and also that he talks to the department shrink."

"Thank you, Captain."

Hutch left Dobey's office only to discover that Starsky had left.


	6. Chapter 6

Whispers of Morgan

By M. Willow

**Chapter Six**

Starsky raced through the streets of Bay City, his mind in turmoil as he sought a logical explanation for Morgan's appearance. He had clearly seen her standing in the squad room and everybody had disappeared. How could that happened? "I'm losing my mind," he shouted.

By now, Starsky was panicked as he drove through the streets, his mind a muddled mass of confusion, his hands gripping the steering wheel. He was aware that he should have told Hutch where he was going, but even he didn't know the answer to that question. It wasn't safe at home, but now Morgan had appeared in broad daylight in a squad room full of people so what did it matter where he went at this point. He drove home, stopping at the store for some more coffee. He would need plenty to stay awake.

Starsky reached his house in record time. He entered the apartment, locking the door quickly behind him, his heart beating at a frantic pace. He went to the kitchen and made some coffee. He paced the floor while he waited for the coffee. The telephone rang pierced the silence of the room. Starsky stared wearyingly at the telephone. Would Morgan start calling him now? Would she tell him it was his fault over the telephone?

Starsky slowly advanced toward the telephone, secretly hoping it would just stop. He answered it and heard the nervous voice of Hutch.

"Starsky, what the hell happened to you?"

"What do ya mean? I was just tired. Thought I'd come home for a while, that's all." He tried to sound normal.

"Not according to Reese," Hutch replied.

Starsky thought of Jennifer Reese. She was a recently promoted detective. She was an attractive woman and certainly off limits since they worked together. She had proven to be an astute officer, solving the more difficult cases in record time. Starsky knew he would have a hard time explaining why he inexplicably got up and raced out of the squad room.

"She said you looked scared shitless. Said you were doing your report. Next thing she knew you were running out the door looking like the devil himself was chasing you."

"She's probably exaggerating. I was just tired. Feeling a little sick, that's all," Starsky said, trying to sound confident, knowing he wouldn't be able to convince Hutch.

"I'm coming' over," Hutch said determinedly.

"No," Starsky said too quickly. "I just want to sleep Hutch. I don't need a baby sitter. Told ya that before."

"You need something," Hutch said slowly. The sadness in his voice struck Starsky like a knife. How could he continue to keep something of this magnitude from his best friend? He had to tell him. Had to tell someone. But when he spoke, the words just didn't come out.

"I need to be alone. Can you respect that. I'll be okay." Starsky said with an edge that he hoped indicated the subject was not open for argument.

Hutch was silent for a few moments. Starsky half expected the blond to continue to insist. Instead he reluctantly agreed. Starsky hung up the telephone. He was alone now. For an instant, he considered picking up the telephone and calling Hutch. In the end, he returned to the kitchen and drank his tenth cup of coffee.

It was ten o'clock at night. The scent of coffee permeated the air as Starsky drank another cup of coffee. He had decided on a plan. He realized that each time Morgan appeared, he had been unable to move. She'd always appeared after he had been asleep for a short time. If all went well, he'd have his answers tonight. He headed for the bedroom and jumped into bed fully clothed, pulling the covers over himself. He had decided that he would not sleep. Instead, he would wait for his visitor and confront her. He eyed the gun sitting by his bedside. He knew it wasn't possible to kill a ghost, if that's what she was. Still, the presence of the gun made him feel like he had some control of the situation. He turned the lights out and waited.

It was two o'clock when he heard the soft sounds coming from his living room. His body tensed. The room was dark with only the soft moonlight illuminating it in shadows. He watched the open door of his bedroom expectantly and found his hands seeking the gun. Now he had the gun in his hand and instantly felt the tension release from his body. He was a cop, not some scared kid lying in the bed and this time he could move. The strange paralyzing feeling did not affect him this time.

He heard the footsteps coming closer to the door. His hands tightened on the gun, releasing the safety. He smiled to himself. He was going to kill a ghost. His hands shook as he aimed the gun at the door and waited. Suddenly, he saw the white blond hair in the moonlight. He pulled the trigger, firing in an instant. He watched the figure collapse to the floor. Starsky turned on the light and saw Hutch lying on the floor

Starsky was on his feet instantly, his heart hammering.

"Oh, my God. What have I done. No!" He wasn't sure if he was screaming or the scream was only in his head. The blond lay there for a second, slowly opening his eyes. Starsky was checking his body, looking for where the bullet went. Hutch met his eyes and sat up, his face incredulous.

"Hutch, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Oh my God, what have I done? What have I done?" His voice was panicked. He was going over the edge.

"What the hell were you thinking, " Hutch said, anger in his voice. He picked himself off the floor. Starsky sat there looking at his partner.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry." he said repeatedly in a monotone voice, clutching his knees and rocking back and forwards.

Hutch quickly kneeled down, looking at his partner with concern.

"Starsk, Starsk, I'm okay." Hutch said soothingly, massaging the other man's neck. Starsky continue to say he was sorry.

Hutch grabbed Starsky, pulling him towards him in a tight bear hug. "I'm here. You didn't hurt me."

Starsky was trembling. He was losing his mind and there was nothing he could do about it. He held on tighter to the blond. He had caused the death of a girl and now he had almost killed his best friend. He felt his mind shutting down, blocking the pain he felt, the hopelessness. He held on tightly as he clutched the blond. He was aware of his partners far away voice. And then blackness overtook him.

Two hours later, both men were sitting in Starsky's bedroom. Starsky was near hysterics as he explained what had been happening over the past three weeks.

"Hutch. I'm scared. She blames me for her death. She won't leave me alone. She's coming for me."

"Starsky, there's a reasonable explanation for this. There's no such things as ghost."

"Then how do you explain it. I saw her. She was as close to me as you are now. It was Morgan."

"Or somebody who looks like her," Hutch said, rubbing his eyes.

It had been a long night. The neighbors had called the police when they heard the shot. Hutch had explained that the gun accidentally went off when his partner was cleaning it. The cops didn't look like they believed it, but took the explanation and left. Hutch was lucky to be alive. Starsky was an excellent marksman, but his recent distress had made his hands unsteady.

Hutch had called Huggy who had a doctor friend of his stop by and take some blood samples. Starsky had been nearly catatonic during the whole procedure, still apologizing for nearly killing his best friend. It had taken Hutch nearly an hour to get through to his friend. Hutch had considered taking him to the hospital at one point, but rejected it when he thought of how it would affect Starsky's career. It was clear that he was nearing a nervous breakdown. And then Starsky started to explain the events that lead up to him almost shooting his partner. Hutch was at first incredulous as he related the tale of the past weeks—the visitations, the fear of sleep, the guilt and finally nearly killing him.

Hutch recalled his education on sleep deprivation. He had studied medicine briefly before becoming a cop. One of the symptoms of sleep deprivation was hallucinations. That could easily explain why his partner was having visions of Morgan, what couldn't be explained was the inability to move when she appeared at night.

Hutch remembered a professor explaining that it was a built in safety mechanism that kept people from moving while they were dreaming. He had experienced these frightening phenomena himself on more than one occasion. Still, these episodes rarely happened and then for only a few moments. Starsky said he had been unable to move for at least 15 minutes and that he had drifted off to sleep immediately after.

"You said you were feeling well when you got in bed? I mean, did you feel like you had been drugged?"

Starsky bowed his head and rubbed tiredly through his curly hair. "No, I'm tellin' you. I was just tired. Not drugged, not anything. Juts tired. Still am."

Hutch touched Starsky's shoulder reassuringly. "You get some sleep. I'm going to stay here till we find out who's doing this to you. I'll call Huggy and get some help from him."

"I won't go to sleep. Not after what I almost did to you." Starsky said, desperately locking eyes with Hutch.

"I'm fine. You didn't hurt me."

"Only because my hands were shaking so badly and you saw the gun and was able to drop to the floor before I fired."

Starsky lay back on the bed, his eyes cast upward to the ceiling.

"You can't go forever without sleep. You need to sleep. Now, I'll be right out front. I'll even take the gun if that's what worries you. But you got to sleep."

Starsky looked at him for a few moments and then closed his eyes. Hutch quietly left the room leaving the door open.

Hutch had called Huggy once he got Starsky calmed down and asleep. Now both men sat in the kitchen drinking a cup of coffee.

"I've never seen him so scared, Hug. He was out of control."

"And you think somebody's is gas lighting our dark-haired brotha? Huggy asked, taking a sip of coffee.

Hutch tiredly wiped his eyes, "I don't know what's going on. Sleep deprivation could be the cause of the whole thing."

"But you don't think so," Huggy said locking eyes with Hutch. Hutch looked down at his coffee.

"I got a feelin' about this one. I don't know." The blond stood, picking up his cup and tossing the hot liquid in the sink.

"You think it's a ghost?" Huggy asked quietly, not meeting the other's eyes.

"Don't believe in them, Huggy."

Huggy observed the blond standing at the sink. He looked at his coffee as he spoke,

"Got a cousin. She said when you asleep you're closer to death. Said that's when we can see the dead, if they want us to see them."

Hutch approached the table abruptly. "That's bull. This is a regular human being, playing tricks. Probably one of her own family and I intend to find out who it is. I'm going to talk to her mother in the morning."

Huggy looked at his friend sadly, the blond sat down at the table, absently rubbing his eyes. "I don't know what else to do, Huggy. If I don't do something, he's going to lose his mind."

"We'll find the answers. I'll put out feelers. Find out about rumors on the street,"

"Thanks Huggy, don't know what we'd do without you."

"Get some rest. You look like you're dead on your feet. I'll stay here in the kitchen."

Hutch got up and tiredly walked to the couch, plopping down and grabbing the cover he had retrieved earlier.

"Huggy, can you stay here tomorrow while I check the mother? I don't want him alone."

"Yeah, no problemo. Nothing will get in here. Not while I'm here."


	7. Chapter 7

Whispers of Morgan

By M. Willow

**Chapter Seven**

Hutch arose early and headed for the Harlow house. The detective had stopped by the station and updated Dobey on the matter. Dobey had been sympathetic, promising to keep the information under his hat while giving Hutch enough time to investigate the matter.

Now, the blond stood on the porch of the large house. He knocked and was greeted by a tired looking dark-haired man. He was a little over six feet with a tuff of unruly hair that reminded him of Starsky's hair.

Hutch identified himself and discovered that the man he was speaking to was Morgan's cousin, Roger. He'd explained that Mrs. Harlow had gone out of town on vacation. Hutch was disappointed until Roger said he could probably answer any questions he had.

Now they sat in the dining room at the large table that could seat at least twenty people. Hutch noted that the dining room was larger than his whole house. He glanced around noticing the painting hanging on the wall. Originals more than likely, he thought as he listened to the tall man.

Roger was smoking a cigarette with a far-away look in his eyes. "Morgan killed herself because she had been dumped by a cop. They were set to get married when the guy left town leaving no forwarding address. Just a note that basically said, thanks for the memory. She nearly went crazy after that and the family put her away. Course, they'd never tell you that. Image and all." He spoke with a southern drawl that didn't seem to match his appearance.

Hutch was relieved. At least they had the answers to one piece of the puzzle. Morgan had deliberately sought Starsky out in order to kill him because he reminded her of her fiancé.

"Tell me about Morgan. What kind of woman was she?" Hutch asked.

"She was okay. Kinda eccentric by the standards of the Harlow family."

"What do you mean?" Hutch asked locking eyes with Roger.

"Dabbled in the black arts. Called herself a witch for awhile and then she got into devil worshipping. Family kept it quiet, of course."

Hutch tried to hide the shock. He'd never believed in the powers of witchcraft or ghost. That was more of Starsky's domain. Still, was it a coincidence that Starsky was seeing ghost and Morgan dabbled in the black arts?

"Was she a part of a coven?" Hutch asked, still trying to sound professional.

Roger snorted. "Naw, see she had this problem getting along with people. She was strictly a one woman show."

"What about family. Was she close to anyone? Someone who might be angry about her death?"

Roger looked suspiciously at Hutch. "Why? Something happened?"

Hutch wasn't about to tell Roger anything. He seemed innocent enough. Still he had been around criminals. He knew a lot of them were very good actors.

"Nothing I'm at liberty to share," Hutch said, hoping the other man would drop the subject.

"Morgan was never close to anybody in the family. I think people were happy when she died. No more threats to sully the Harlow name. She made most people uncomfortable. Always going on about spells she'd cast and seeing into the future. That sort of junk. Naw, nobody was close to that girl. Even gave me the creeps."

Anything else you think might be helpful?" Hutch said looking at Roger hopefully. "I mean anything."

Roger slowly shook his head. "Can't think of anything."

Hutch stood handing him his card with the number to the precinct. "If you think of anything, call this number, okay?

Roger took the card, putting it in his pants pocket. "Yeah, if I think of anything."

The room was cast in a sort of half darkness when Starsky opened his eyes. Thick curtains blocked the sunlight making it seem as if it were evening instead of morning. He had been awake for hours, lying there pretending to sleep, hopeful that he would not doze off. He recalled how he had almost killed his best friend. Nice work he chided himself. Here he was an officer of the law and he had used his gun like some scared civilian.

Starsky sat up and swung his legs to sit on the edge of the bed. Hutch had been afraid. Starsky could see it in his eyes. Hutch was afraid that he was losing his mind. No way did he believe in ghost, but then he hadn't seen Morgan. Starsky trembled when he thought of Morgan. She was going to torment him until she drove him mad. He was darn close to it now.

Starsky stood on shaky legs. He knew Huggy was in the living room. He had heard him arrive and listened as the dark-skinned man looked in on him every now and again. Starsky smiled to himself. He was not as close to Huggy as he was to Hutch, but he counted him as a dear and close friend. He headed to the kitchen and found Huggy preparing some breakfast.

"Made you some eats," the dark-skinned man said as he entered.

"Nothing for me," Starsky smiled.

"Well our curly headed brother is back in the land of the living I see," Huggy said this then suppressed a grimace as the implication of the statement hit home. He cleared his throat. "Well, I've got Dr. Hutch's orders that says you gotta eat." He dished up a plate of eggs, laying them on the table. Starsky sat at the table, regarding the eggs warily.

"Got coffee?" he asked hopefully. He wanted to stay awake at all cost. He thought about the past two weeks—coffee had become his breakfast, lunch and dinner. He relied on the reassuring presence of caffeine in his body to keep him awake. He wondered how long he'd be able to stay awake.

The black man turned, retrieved a cup and sat it before Starsky. "Can't see what you see in this stuff," he said while pouring a cup of the steaming liquid. "Me and Hutch had some last night. It's awful."

Starsky took a sip. "There's another can on the shelf I just brought. It's better than this one."

"Now you tell me," Huggy said, taking a seat at the table.

Starsky drank the liquid hungrily. He didn't care how it tasted as long as it kept him awake. He caught the eye of the startled man as he drank. The liquid was hot, too hot, but he hadn't cared. It was merely a means to an end.

"Huggy, you know anybody that can tell me how to get rid of a ghost." Starsky tried to sound normal as he asked.

Huggy regarded Starsky with surprise for a moment. Starsky stared down at his cup. "Yeah, I know a girl. Can't vouch for her though. Just some chick comes in the Pits every now and then. Spooky type, if you get my drift."

"I need to see her. Think you can get her over here right away."

Huggy regarded the brunet even longer. "Our white knight ain't gonna be too happy with a card carrying medium hanging out here. He still believes you've been drugged."

"How Huggy, answer me that. How would somebody be able to give me drugs?" Starsky looked pleadingly at Huggy.

Huggy stood up, "Okay, but don't blame me for the message." He picked up the phone and dialed quickly. Starsky released a breath he didn't know he was holding.

It had been a long day. He'd called Starsky a few times and was told he was resting. Hutch had elected not to disturb his friend. He needed all the rest he could get. Hutch headed towards Starsky's place. It was late evening and the sun was just going down. He'd spent a full day searching for information about Morgan. Dobey had been helpful, giving him files with background information on the Harlow family. Unfortunately, the files had yielded no new information. Hutch's attention was riveted to the yellow-orange sky. Everything seemed so normal, but it was not. His best friend was losing his mind. He had to solve this case and solve it quickly. He was tired, but he had no time to rest.

Hutch reached Starsky's apartment and ran up the stairs two at a time. He entered the apartment using the key his partner had given him. He was shocked to discover that they had a visitor. She was beautiful with dark-brown skin and long braids that reached the middle of her back. She was sitting on the floor along with a very pale Starsky and an uncomfortable Huggy. Huggy gave an apologetic shrug when the blond looked at him.

"What the hell is going on?" Hutch asked, more than a little perturbed.

"This is Angela Russell," Huggy blurted indicating the woman who merely looked at him. "She's what they call a medium."

"I am more than a medium," Angela corrected. "I have many talents,"

"Listen, Miss…Miss Russell, we don't need your services…" Hutch started.

"Well, I do. If you don't wanna hear what she's gotta say, just leave Hutch." Starsky said warningly. Starsky seemed anxious for Angela to stay. "Listen, Hutch. You ain't been through what I have. I want to find a way to get rid of Morgan and if Angela can help, so be it."

Hutch entered the room and sat next to Starsky. His friend looked tired, past the point of exhaustion. Hutch had doubts about the brunet resting all day. Probably pretended to sleep, he thought sadly. He placed a protective hand on his partner's shoulder.

"This is not about a ghost. There's no such thing?" he said quietly.

"Oh yeah, well I don't want to hear it. I know about your sleep deprivation theory and all that junk about drugs, but I was there. I saw Morgan. Please Hutch…"

Hutch saw the desperation and fear in his partner's eyes. He closed his eyes for a second and then opened them. "Okay, guess it couldn't hurt."

Starsky smiled bringing his attention back to Angela.

The dark-eyed beauty sat looking about the room as she sipped tea. "The dead can come back if they're strong enough." She locked eyes with Starsky. "This woman was angry. That makes her even more powerful. She wanted to punish you in life, now she'll come back to take your life as she wanted. It is her only goal."

Hutch sighed taking a look at Starsky. Starsky was buying it, Hutch thought. A glimpse at Huggy indicated his belief in Angela also. So Hutch was the skeptic. He believed in psychics, had seen one in action. But ghost, no way. Once you died, that was it. If ghosts existed, surely he and Starsky would have discovered them. They had many enemies among the dead—men they had to kill in the line of duty. Why would a woman who deliberately killed herself want to come back for Strarsky? Why not look for the man she hated in the first place—the fiancé who jilted her.

Hutch cleared his throat, and Angela looked up. "You have something to say, detective Hutchinson?" she asked, her brown eyes locking with his.

"Well, I was just wondering. Why would Morgan come after Starsky? Why not the fiancé?"

Three sets of eyes faced Angela. Hutch was sure she was blushing, but her pecan-colored skin hid all indications of the fact. She sipped her tea thoughtfully. The room was silent for a few minutes and then she spoke, her voice soft, "There are many things that we don't understand about the other world. I may ask you why she fixated on Starsky in the first place."

Starsky smiled his cocky attitude in full force in spite of the seriousness of the situation. "Well, there was the attraction," he said as if stating the obvious.

"No doubt, you are an attractive man, but so is your friend here," she said indicating Hutch. Hutch felt uncomfortable under her gaze. She looked like she was seeing right through him. She continued, casting her eyes into the teacup as she spoke. "Have you seen a picture of her boyfriend?"

Hutch kicked himself for not asking Roger for one. He had just been so preoccupied with getting back to Starsky. And just maybe, he was bordering on exhaustion too. He hadn't slept well in the past three days.

"Didn't think of it." Hutch said, tiredly rubbing his eyes.

"If you find a picture, he will remind you of Starsky." Hutch noticed the certainty in her voice. She stood watching all three men, "I also suggest that if you look for this boyfriend, you will not find him. He is dead."

Starsky tensed, and Hutch moved closer, massaging his neck as he spoke. "How do you know this?"

"It is her way? She wanted to kill you. And you were the one who got a way. She wants to fix that. Look for the fiancé and you will find your common thread."

Angela gathered her purse and headed for the door. Starsky stood, wavering for a moment. Hutch quickly stood and grabbed his arm, supporting him.

"That's it? I thought we were going to have a séance or read some tea leaves or something'" Starsky said, clearly perturbed.

"Angela smiled lightly. "There is no need to call her, she is already here."

"Then how do I get rid of her?" Starsky asked, his voice trembling.

"You must confront her on her own level."

"How am I gonna do that?" Starsky asked clearly disappointed.

"She will tell you," Angela smiled ominously and then she was gone.

Hutch waited impatiently for the lab results. He knew they would show positively that Starsky had been drugged. But how, was the question. Starsky was never one to leave a drink unattended and he would have noticed any other form of administration. Hutch looked around the house. Could it be possible that someone had entered and added the drug to something the dark-haired detective drank or ate each day? Hutch decided to collect all of the food items and have them analyzed as well.

Hutch was startled to here a soft knock on the door. He looked around the apartment. It was cast in darkness, with an occasional flash of lightning. Perfect night for a ghost, Starsky had remarked. And it was. The thunder and the tap of rain against the window pane reminded him of one of the haunted house stories on the late show. And now there was the insistent knock at the door. Hutch was glad that Starsky was taking a shower. He was afraid enough without the startling impact of hearing someone knock at the door at eleven o'clock at night.

Hutch stood and headed for the door, his hands lightly touching his gun. Don't supposed ghost knock, he wondered.

"Who is it?"

"It's me and the doc, Hutch," Huggy answered.


	8. Chapter 8

Whispers of Morgan

By M. Willow

**Chapter Eight**

It hadn't been difficult to fool Hutch. All he had to do was leave a note on the table saying that he was taking a shower. He'd turned the shower on full blast and slipped out the door. He had to get to the bridge, it was his only hope.

He drove through the streets with determination and purpose. He had to stop the haunting at all cost. He thought back to earlier in the evening. Huggy had left and he had a blinding headache. He had convinced Hutch to go to the store since he was out of aspirin. Hutch had refused at first. He hadn't wanted to leave him alone. But Starsky had insisted that he would be fine and the store was only fifteen minutes away.

Not soon after Hutch left, Starsky received a call. It was Morgan and she wanted to meet him alone at the bridge. Starsky had been numb for a few seconds. Should he tell Hutch? He knew Hutch was due back in minutes. In the end he'd decided to write the note and leave before he returned. He knew that it was stupid to go alone, but Morgan had insisted that they meet alone and he didn't want to jeopardize the chance to finally confront her by bringing a skeptic

Now he was was nearing the bridge and he broke out in a cold sweat. His head was pounding. He considered going back and telling Hutch. Still, he knew the haunting would continue. Maybe even get worse. He felt the reassuring pressure of his gun and the thought chilled him. Just last night he had almost killed his best friend. All to kill a dead girl. He resolved to leave the gun in the car.

He was at the bridge so he stopped the car and got out, laying his gun on the front seat. The rain had stopped but the bridge was covered with a heavy fog, the wind blowing hard against his body. He was so weak he could hardly stand so he leaned against the bridge for support. He looked down into the dark, swirling waters, remembering the horrible incident that had ended Morgan's life. He knew that it was suicide, yet he was still convinced in the final moments, she had wanted to live.

Starsky looked around the deserted park. Suddenly all of the adrenalin that had propelled him to the bridge left his body and he slid helplessly to the ground, his breaths coming in short gasps. He looked around for help and was elated to see a figure approaching. The person walked in slow purposeful steps. At first he couldn't make out who it was and then the figure of Morgan stood on the other side of the bridge, the streetlights illuminating her ravaged skin. Her dead eyes locked with his as the wind blew the white-blond hair around her face. She was coming for him.

Hutch sat listening to the doctor. Doctor Rutherford was a tall man with deep penetrating eyes. Hutch didn't know much about the man. He'd taken Huggy's word on the validity of the doctor. He had little choice—anything else would have ended Starsky's career. Now he listened as the doctor told him of his findings.

"There were all sorts of drugs in his system. Some unidentifiable. Most definitely a hallucinogenic. Somebody was trying to make him think he was losing his mind."

Hutch took a relived intake of air. He was right and now everything would be okay. They would find the person who was doing this. And he knew just where to look, Roger Harlow. The man knew more than he was telling and Hutch would get it out of him.

"This drug. Could it make a person unable to move?" Hutch asked, recalling the symptoms Starsky had mentioned.

"Most definitely. Used the way it is here. But I suggest this is an experimental drug. Not something you'd find in your local pharmacy."

Hutch shuddered remembering when he had been given a drug against his wishes. "You think it's habit forming?"

"I doubt it, but then it is an experimental drug."

Hutch stood. "I'd like you to explain it to my partner."

The doctor knocked his head in agreement and Hutch headed to Starsky's room. As he neared the room he could hear the shower running. The thought chilled him— He'd been home for some time and the shower was still on. Concerned, he opened the door without knocking and found it empty. Hutch's heart raced. There was only one place Starsky would go without telling him. "Oh my God, Hutch exclaimed, grabbing his gun and racing past a stunned Huggy and the doctor.

"Got to go. He's not here."

Huggy ran after him, the doctor following. "I'll go with you. He may need help."

"Starsky saw the form of Morgan Harlow headed in his direction. He was unable to move, but this time it was not a result of the drug. It was sheer terror. He could feel his heart racing as the streetlights revealed her decaying body. She walked slowly, menacingly towards him. The wind carried the scent of decay. He spoke chokingly. "I'm sorry. Didn't mean for you to die."

"But die I did. I died while you sat there looking. Now, you're coming with me."

She walked quicker now and within seconds she stood before him, her eyes fired with hate.

Starsky attempted to crawl toward the car. Morgan grasped his struggling body, kicking him in the side.

"Please," he spoke in a shaky voice. "I wanted to save you. I just…I just couldn't move. I tried."

"Well, you're going to die where I died," she smiled. She reached down and grabbed his hair, forcing him to look at her.

"He's ready, Roger," she hissed.

Starsky blinked in confusion. A man he'd never seen approached and stood before him. The man leaned down and grabbed him by the collar, forcing him to stand.

"So we finally meet," the man growled. "The man who watched my cousin die."

Starsky trembled as the man yanked him towards the bridge.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Roger Harlow, Morgan's cousin."

A short woman approached. She was about seventy with gray hair. It was Morgan's mother. "You stole the only child I had. Now I'll watch you die." Her gray eyes were angry, menacing.

Starsky looked at Morgan questioningly. It was obvious now that she wasn't Morgan. The whole thing had been a plot to drive him mad. They had almost succeeded.

"I guess another introduction is in order," she said, bowing as if she were on stage and this was the final curtain. "I am Brittany Harlow, Morgan's cousin and Roger's sister. Spitting image of Morgan, wouldn't you say."

"Not really," Starsky gasped. Now that he could take a better look at her, he could see that her resemblance to Morgan was slight. Only fear had made him think she was Morgan before and maybe, he had to admit, Hutch was right and he had been drugged.

"Did you like my cocktail," Brittany asked. "I put it in your coffee one day when you were gone."

Starsky thought about the unusual taste. He'd thought it was his imagination. And then he was so desperate to stay awake he hadn't cared—only buying the new coffee when the old was running low. Now he knew the truth. He'd been drugged and the Harlow family had taken advantage of his weakened state.

Roger punched him in the stomach. "So you thought you got away. Big shot detective and their so called investigation."

"I tried. I really tried to help," Starsky uttered as much for himself as for them. In spite of their intent, he still felt guilty.

"Shut up," Mrs. Harlow said. "I've heard enough of your lies. Roger, get on with it."

Starsky was hosted up by his arms and jerked toward the bridge. "Don't do this. Your daughter committed suicide."

"I told her," Mrs. Harlow said with disgust. "I told her stop going around with people that were not of her class. Then she took up with that cop. Well, I got rid of him. He's dead just as you will be soon."

Starsky could see the old woman was quite mad. She continued speaking, her voice harsh. "I had Roger kill him, then bury the body. Nobody will ever find him, I've seen to that."

The truth stung Starsky. "And Morgan went mad grieving over the loss of a man you killed," he said bitterly.

"She had no business with him. She wanted to leave. Wanted to leave me. I couldn't have that. I'm an old woman. You see, I had her late in life. She was all that I had. All that I had." The woman broke down in tears. Starsky found himself feeling sorry for her and then Roger's voice cut through the sorrow.

"You see, you're going to jump off that bridge. Everyone going to say you committed suicide. Of course we'll know the truth."

"Nobody's gonna believe I committed suicide."

Brittany smiled. "Think again. You've been acting crazy for almost a month now. Filled with remorse. This was just your way of making things right."

"My partner. My partner, gonna come lookin' for you. He'll never believe I'd kill myself. You can bet on that."

"So there'll be a coroner's inquest. Fitting, don't you think?"

Roger stepped back, letting Starsky hold on to the rail of the bridge for support.

"Now you got two choices. You can either stand here and I get to shoot you or you can take your chances and jump."

Hutch raced through the streets, sirens blaring. Huggy sat next to him, holding on for dear life. The doctor sat quietly in the back seat. Hutch had called for backup and an ambulance. He had a bad feeling about this. If Starsky left in the middle of the night, someone had to have called him and asked for a meeting. That could only mean Morgan and Starsky had gone to the bridge.

Hutch removed the mars light and doused his headlights as he approached the park. He didn't want to alert anyone to his presence.

"The bridge isn't far. I'm gonna get out and walk." He took his gun out and got out of the car, the doctor and Huggy following.

"Backup should be here any minute. You two stay in the car."

"No way, man. I'm coming with ya." Huggy said.

"I'm coming too," the doctor said. "You may need help."

Hutch knew it was a waste of time to argue and he didn't have time.

"Come on, but stay out of site."

The three of them took off running toward the bridge.

"We're going to see that you suffer as Morgan suffered in her final moments. Too bad we can't provide a car for you to die in. Jumping will just have to do." Roger said, pointing the gun. "Now, climb up there or stay here and die. Your choice."

Starsky looked down at the dark waters. He'd never liked heights, but at least jumping provided some chance at life. He'd survived once, he could do it again. He climbed on the ledge of the bridge. It was difficult, he was so weak. He wondered if he would have a better chance with Roger's bullet.

Hutch rounded a corner and saw Starsky standing on the bridge ready to jump. He almost didn't notice the three people standing in back of his partner he was so intent on the scene before him. But then he saw the gun and a woman standing there in a green dress. He was too far back to be noticed, and unfortunately too far to use his gun. He gestured for Huggy and Doctor Rutherford to stay back. He then proceeded to head for the bridge. He moved fast and stealthily. He didn't have time to spare and his heart leaped at the implications.

"Jump, now and die." Mrs. Harlow ordered.

The wind whipped around Starsky causing him to sway. He felt faint and struggled to keep his balance. He couldn't afford to just fall, he needed to brace himself before jumping. He moved forward, looking at the black waters. He took a deep breath, preparing himself for the water when he heard the commanding voice of his partner.

"Police. Put the gun down or it's the last thing you'll do."

Starsky saw Hutch standing there with a gun pointed at the group in front of him. Huggy and a man he didn't know were quickly approaching.

"Step away from him now, everybody. Starsky get down from there." Hutch ordered.

Starsky felt relief. He knew Hutch would come. Deep down he knew his friend would know where he was and get there in time before he jumped. He swayed as he sought purchase on the ground beneath. Later, he would recall what happened next in slow motion. One moment he was standing on the bridge, preparing to get down and the next he heard the old woman shout and felt her hands push him off the bridge, his body falling helplessly into the dark waters below.

Hutch watched helplessly as the old woman pushed his partner off the bridge. He was vaguely aware of the sounds of sirens and Huggy grabbing his hand, taking the gun and telling him to go.

Hutch dashed for the bridge, stripping his jacket and shoulder holster as he ran. He dived into the water in seconds, the cold water momentarily stunning him. He had to find Starsky. He knew his partner stood little chance of surviving in his weakened condition.

Starsky felt the black waters surround him. He fought feebly to stay on the surface of the water, but soon found himself sinking uselessly to the bottom. He held his breath for a moment and then gasped as the water entered his nose. Then time seemed to stand still. He saw Morgan sitting in the car. He saw himself watching her. He saw Hutch crying at his funeral. Just as quickly, the images were replaced with his past life--he and Hutch laughing while watching a football game, he and Hutch working their first case, the emptiness he felt when he realized Terry was dying, and finally being shot in the police garage. Then the images faded into the vast darkness and there was nothing.

Hutch came to the surface for a breath of air and just as quickly returned to the water. He would find Starsky even if it meant his own death. He searched the black depths, his eyes searching for any signs of his friend. He recalled the life he had with Starsky and the emptiness of his life before his best friend. He felt his tenacious hold on the dark-haired detective drifting away and it terrified him. He realized the water was too dark to find his partner and swam by instinct. Somehow he would feel the presence of Starsky and find him. Somehow, he thought desperately. And then he saw a slight movement and swam towards it.

Huggy stood looking into the water. It had been only minutes since the blond detective had left him guarding the three people and dived into the water. Now the cops held them and Huggy waited patiently for a sign that his two friends would survive. He knew he could lose both of them. There was no doubt in his mind that Hutch would die rather than leave Starsky to drown.

"Please, Lord, save them both," he uttered, eyes closed.

Huggy released a breath when he saw a blond head arise from the water with an unconscious Starsky in tow. The blond pulled the detective to a small piece of land beneath the bridge and started to administer CPR. The doctor moved forward and took over, the blond swaying on his feet as he watched the doctor try to save his partner's life. Huggy prayed. He'd never been a praying man, but he prayed now for the two best friends he ever had. He watched with relief as the brunet coughed.

Epilogue

Two weeks later:

Starsky smiled as he caught another fish. They were sitting in a boat with several fish and a cooler filled with beer.

"I'm on a roll today, Hutch. By the way, how many did you catch?" Starsky said teasingly.

Hutch looked at the man who meant so much to him. Just weeks ago he had been on the verge of a nervous breakdown caused by the plot of a bitter old woman who wanted to blame the world for something she had caused. Now, the brunet was happy, rested, back to normal. It hadn't been easy. Starsky spent many nights suffering from nightmares about Morgan. Hutch had been there waking him from the nightmares; Talking to him when sleep wouldn't come; soothing him with calming words when despair threatened to be his constant companion. In time, Strarsky had learned to forgive himself for Morgan's death. He realized the young woman with so much ahead of her had chosen to leave this world. He hadn't caused her to make that decision.

Hutch was momentarily solemn as he thought about Morgan's fiancé. His body had been found with the help of Roger. The man had been shot and buried on the night he disappeared. Now the family would stand trial for the murder of the fiancé and the attempted murder of Starsky. They would pay. He would see to that.

"Didn't catch any and you know it." Hutch replied, a glint of humor in the words.

Starsky smiled and became serious as he looked at the glistening blue waters of early Saturday morning. "Thanks, Hutch," he said simply, removing the fish and casting it into the pail.

You'd have done the same for me." Hutch replied, knowing that Starsky spoke of the Morgan haunting.

Starsky shuddered like a cold hand ran up his spine.

"They're gonna be put away for a long time, Hutch. I ain't got no reason to worry about them."

Hutch put a reassuring hand on Starsky's back. "Course not. The judge will throw away the key. They willfully attempted to kill a police officer. They drugged you and planted listening devises in your bedroom. "

Starsky recalled what they found—listening devises in his bedroom along with a small camera hidden behind the bookcase in the living room. The drug they had given him caused him to stay awake which made him more likely to believe he was being haunted by Morgan. The drug also caused his terrifying inability to move. It was an experimental drug developed by the Harlow family. Without the drugs, Starsky realized that Brittany didn't even resemble Morgan.

"You okay, buddy?" Hutch asked, noticing the pensive expression on Starsky's face.

"I'm still not sure."

Hutch looked at Starsky with alarm, but said nothing.

"Ya think it was all caused by sleep deprivation?" Starsky added without meeting Hutch's eyes.

"Of course, you don't really think Morgan…"

"Course not, silly." Starsky said, his voice low, his eyes telling a different story.

Hutch looked at the far off look in Starsky's eyes. He'd seen that look many times since Morgan's death. His friend had gone through a lot. He had looked death in the face twice and survived. Hutch knew he still had moments of doubts. Starsky had described the visitations, the fear of not being able to move.

"She has no power against the two of us," Hutch said simply.

Starsky met his eyes, the seriousness dissolving into a smile, "Lets face it, nothin' can beat the likes of us. We're invincible."

Hutch stood and grabbed two cans of beer from the cooler. The blue waters were crystal clear, the sound of birds soothing to mind and body and his best friend was at his side once again. Life was indeed good.

Fin


End file.
